


Lawless

by AoedeNymph



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Development, Character Study, Crime Fighting, Crimes & Criminals, Detectives, Developing Relationship, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Lawyers, Mental Health Issues, Original Character(s), Post-Nuclear War, Pre-War, Private Investigators, Robot/Human Relationships, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Stereotypes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-01-20 20:25:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18532513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AoedeNymph/pseuds/AoedeNymph
Summary: Lorraine Howard was many things; a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother. Most importantly, she was stubborn as hell and had her own visions for the future. People often called her ahead of her time, with her progressive views on fundamental rights, not only regarding gender, but also race and social class. Nobody expected her to be alive literally 200 years later. Who is she now, when she has nothing left? What good is a lawyer in a lawless world?





	1. Mister Sandman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Fallout work! I am very intrigued and inspired by the sole survivor and her many iterations, so here is mine. 
> 
> Marked as mature for dark themes including mental health, grave injuries, mourning, PTSD. I wanted to show the crude and gritty side of Lorraine's life, before and after the bombs. I've never written about this time period before, so I'm having a lot of fun researching and learning. 
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

Piper declared that she would be back after having a chat with Nick and Ellie, and that she would bring them over so they could work together.

“The more minds, the better”, she said, and skipped out the door.

Lorraine wasn't usually judgemental, but she couldn't help but feel like the reporter only saw her as the next big attraction at the freakshow. It was so uncomfortable to have all eyes on her when passing through the city, earning stares for her pip-boy, her vault outfit, or, most probably, due to the fact that she looked like she would turn into a ghoul at any minute. The third option had been the result of the perfect recipe: sleep deprivation, starvation, and the grand champion of all, being brought back into a world pulsating with radiation at every step that made her inherently nauseated.

She had only briefly explained her situation to the raven-haired woman before venturing off to rescue the Commonwealth's best and only detective. Apparently, if anyone could find Shaun and the ones who murdered Nate in front of her, it was him. They had returned from Vault 114 last night, mostly unscathed, and called it a day.

It was the morning after; not that she got much rest.

There had been no intention to fall back asleep, but as she made herself comfortable on the cushioned couch, surprisingly plush despite the filthy appearance and slightly odd smell, she had passed out almost as soon as she laid her head down. She drifted off, the familiar feeling of her body falling to bits weighing on her mind. In her loneliness, she bitterly remarked the greeting of an old friend.

 

The dark circles under her eyes contrasted with her pale skin, irises no longer the colour of brilliant emerald, but more of a sickly tinge. Even her freckles seemed to have faded to barely-visible splashes of colour on her face. Her thinned skin stuck to the perturbing bones, hands shaking as she brought the stack of plates over to the dinner table.

He was almost home. Everything had to be perfect.

“The napkins” she remembered, her voice out of breath. Slowly, her dead eyes darted across the kitchen and spotted them. Her feet dragged across the floor. She tried to swallow the dryness in her mouth to no avail. Her sweat had ran out hours ago.

 

Dinner was ready. The house was clean. The laundry was finished. All the shopping had been done.

Her 600-page law school book laid open on the coffee table, a stack of pens and notebooks accompanying the heavy reading material. It was her fourth time going through it that day, obvious from the condition of the print. It had been studied many times over. She couldn't fail the course, or she wouldn't be able to graduate and pass her bar exam. Against all odds, against every other woman telling her to be complacent and every man looking down on her, she had to do it.

She was going to do it, because she wanted to, and that meant she could.

She was going to be a lawyer and a wife, and nobody could stop her.

Unfortunately, her body disagreed, not for the first time.

A thought passed through her mind, that she could go back to studying since Nate seemed to be late again. There was no time to waste, but it would be rude not to welcome him at the door when he got back. She sat upright in the kitchen, but found herself unconsciously leaning back against the counter for support. Her feet would give in soon.

Not a moment later, she heard the car pull up. The corners of her dried lips curved into a smile, not out of obligation, but out of bliss.

She rushed to the door, as quickly as she could, and checked her appearance one last time in the hallway mirror. Her make-up was pristine, but it didn't cover up her ghastly complexion.

 

“Honey, I swear, you outdo yourself every time” a man spoke through a mouthful of food. He had a bright grin on his face as he glanced over at his wife.

A blush crept down her cheeks, and she shook her head. No matter how light her motion was, it still made her dizziness worse.

“I'm just glad you like it, sweetheart.”

As he emptied the plate, she reached over to pick it off the table, and he snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close and planting a peck on her cheek.

“I'll get you dessert” she giggled under his touch and backed away into the kitchen. After a moment of silence, dishes clattered to the floor, and Nate shot up from his seat, knocking his chair over.

“Lorri!”

He rushed over to her small frame, collapsed on the cold kitchen tiles. He gathered her in his arms and tenderly brushed some strands out of her face. A couple of detached blonde hairs tangled around his digits. She was losing more hair.

He couldn't help the tears welling up in his eyes, nor the ones that had already slid down.

“I'm okay, my love.”

Her voice was almost nothing more than a whisper.

Close up, she could see the bump on his nose where it had been broken not too long ago in his military training. She could see the fear in his bloodshot, drooping eyes, and she could feel how fatigued his muscles were, even though he was holding her so tightly against him, as if the world would end at any moment.

Nate trembled, unable to control himself.

“I hate seeing you like this. It breaks my heart.”

More tears. Her own were joining his.

“If only I could be a better husband for you.”

Her bony hands grasped onto his uniform. He was going to be deployed first thing next week. His training had been intense, even more so under the growing fear of losing to the Chinese. Even if his father was a high ranking officer, there was still no guarantee he would be safe.

_War is war, and war never changes._

“If only I could be a better wife”, she retorted, leaning her forehead against his chest.

Their love had never been anything short of blooming, from the day they met. Through all the pressure the world had put on their shoulders, they would always be there for each other until the end of time.

“I don't want you to go” Lorraine whimpered, gathering the strength to sit up, still wrapped securely in his strong arms. She brought a hand to his cheek and lovingly caressed the wetness away with her thumb.

Their lips pressed together in a quiet kiss through numerous tears, before he reached up to hold her slim fingers in his.

His mouth moved, but she never heard any words come out.

The next thing she saw was red, as the blood from the gunshot to his head sprayed across her face.

 

The opening of the old metal door jolted her awake, eyes snapping open in time with the high-pitched screech. Being sensitive to such noises since becoming a mother was still useful in the Wasteland, after all, even if the only cries she heard from her child those days were just the ones in her strange combination of reminiscent dreams and nightmares.

The loudest person to come into the room was, of course, Piper, who seemed surprised when her eyes landed on Lorraine, her young features quickly changing their expression from what seemed like a bemused apology to concern and, if the vault-dweller read it right, pity.

“Is she still-” Ellie started, brushing past Piper with a gentle touch on top of the red fabric covering her shoulder, her steps slowly dying soon after with a low gasp. “Oh…”

Lorraine stood up, adjusting the blue fabric hugging her malnourished frame, using her palms to smother out the creases from having fallen asleep on the couch in the reporter's house. Her mannerisms from a life literally hundreds of years ago remained, and she instinctively fixed her hair with a subtle gesture. It was always essential for a woman to look her best.

 _It used to be_ , she corrected herself in her thoughts.

Still, she couldn't look that bad. What were those reactions for?

Ellie seemed to turn back towards the entrance when another presence joined them. From behind the brim of his tattered hat, Nick's bright eyes turned to her, and, in a very gentlemanly manner, simply reached inside the pocket of his jacket, pulled out a worn, but clean, handkerchief, and held it out to the woman he had met less than twenty four hours ago with a slight inclination of his head.

“Here” he offered, his robotic voice ringing with kindness, oddly contrasting with the whole concept of his ‘synthetic’ existence.

There was confusion in her mind for a moment before Lorraine hesitantly reached out. Her warm fingers brushed against the cold, textured surface of his hands as she took the handkerchief, and that's when the realization of the streams of tears down her face hit her.

She went from not feeling anything in her body to a hollow pain in her chest and a burning sensation coupled with the tightness of her throat.

_‘I don't want you to go.’_

Out of courtesy, she spun on her heels to remove the embarrassing image out of their line of sight, dabbing the soft material underneath her lower lash line, blinking a couple of times to make sure she had gotten rid of any lingering tears. After drying her face, she held the fabric to her chest, letting out an inaudible, heavy sigh. She put on a smile before confronting them again. A fake smile, a weak one.

“Forgive me”, was all she said on the matter, but she was met with nothing but acceptance from the three of them. Ellie was relieved, Piper reassured her enthusiastically and Nick only gave her the slightest of smiles from beneath the shadows masking the rest of his face.

 _Almost too uncanny_. He really embodied those old noir detectives. It made her terribly nostalgic.

“Well, should we get down to business?” Lorraine gestured towards the couch, and moved the military backpack she had picked up on her journey to Diamond City, now stuffed with healing items, some sentimental belongings from Sanctuary Hills, and other miscellaneous objects that seemed to come in handy in her new makeshift survival scenario. Somehow, she managed to keep her professionalism.

“Sure thing! Let me get everything ready”, the reporter beamed, and sat down in front of her terminal, gathering her papers and picking out the pen hanging behind her ear in order to start scribbling down hectically.

She was joined by the detective's assistant, prepared to take notes and cross them over after the questioning (and interview, at Piper's insistence) with their existing files.

They didn't have much to go on, but they were all willing to do their best.

Flames flickered from a rusted lighter as Nick lit up a cigarette, leaning nonchalantly against the door that he had closed behind him, bringing the object of his vice between his unnaturally ivory lips.

“Let's find your son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! It has been literal years since I wrote a fanfic, so I would love to hear your opinions. Also, who did you guys romance? Anyone else eternally frustrated that they made Nick so likeable and intriguing and then cockblocked us? No worries. I got you. Have patience. ;)
> 
> I do see my character as very close with mostly all companions, so if you want to see a romance with anyone else, I take requests! I could always write more than one romance route for this fic, or just separate one shots. I'm already tempted, because I really love all the different characters in this game and the interesting dynamics they have with SS. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. Leanin' The Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper and Lorraine have a pleasant chat.

While the air of late October was indeed quite chilly, Piper still thought that Lorraine was shivering a lot more than any average person. Then again, she was very, very far from average, wasn't she?

The last few days had consisted of travelling and exploring with her own pre-war relic, and the experience was very high on her list of most incredible things that had happened to her. Slowly but surely, the strange woman was warming up to her. She gave Piper the most accurate picture of a perfect wife, with the perfect family, the perfect looks and the perfect life from before the war, but it seemed like it wasn't as impeccable as she initially thought. 

A gust of wind blew past them, scraping a cloud of dust and rubble across the widely cracked street in front of them.

Lorraine once again trembled in place, her teeth audibly clattering behind her closed lips. Her skinny hands reached up to the collar of her vault suit, pulling it closer to her neck as the noticeable shiver travelled down her whole body.

“Blue, you're shaking like a leaf! Come on, let's get you warmed up” the reporter gestured, holstering her weapon and moving towards the other, planting a hand on her back and ushering her towards the shop they had just cleared out. 

A few withered ghouls lay across the floor, each sporting an additional shot to the head for good measure, courtesy of Blue. It was a clever way of making sure they weren't going to get up again, and it was impressive to see how pre-war smarts could be applied to a post-apocalyptic world. Most people didn't think twice, and more often than not, their carelessness costed them at least a limb, if they got lucky. 

Another good idea for an article.

It looked like someone else had crashed inside the mostly standing building long before them, a large metallic trash can holding the remnant ashes of a fire,  and a forgotten, unused bedroll sitting tucked away under the stairs.

The first to take action was Piper, picking up an old, indecipherable magazine off a dust-covered shelf and ripping out the pages before tossing them in.

Catching herself out of her reverie, Lorri reached inside her backpack and took out a lighter and a small bottle of oil, together with a thin scrap of wood. She lit it up after encouraging the flames with a couple of drops, and tossed it in with the rest of the garbage, watching the fire grow.

Her gaze flickered over to Piper, whose lips had curled into a caring smile. “Better?” she probed, and the older woman nodded timidly.

“Sorry” Lorraine replied. ”I'm holding us back.” 

The journalist found a seat and plopped down, her feet crossed in front of her. She waved her hand dismissively. “I'm here to watch your back, not to drag you across the Commonwealth. It's nice to just spend some time together. I want to get to know you more!”

Either her proximity to the fire or the nice words finally sent a feeling of warmth through her, shoulders releasing the tension that was building up. Lorraine let out a quiet laugh, once again reaching into the backpack to grab two cans of purified water, but there was something else in her hands; an old plastic cup, looking like it had been thoroughly scrubbed clean.

“The woman out of time, huh?”, the blonde quoted the newest news article from Publick Occurences. She poured the contents of a can into the cup and brought it over to Piper.

The brunette blinked for a few moments. Blue always did stuff like that, little displays of kindness and courtesy. It was like her second nature.

“You don't need to go through all that trouble for this loudmouth reporter” Piper jestered, accepting the cup.

“But, thanks.” 

Their eyes met with a reciprocated smile. 

“It's my pleasure.”

The water swirled inside the cup at the motion of her hands, eyes lost following the circular ripples. “Blue, why are you so polite?”

That came out of the blue, no pun intended. What a strange question, although Lorri did notice that people in the Wasteland certainly behaved a lot different than they used to 200 years prior.

Her answer could have taken many different shapes. She was taught to be polite since her earliest memories. She was disciplined strictly whenever disrespecting others. She was always expected to be submissive and please everyone around her. She was trained to be professional and communicate well with others due to her occupation. But none of those were important.

“It makes me happy” Lorraine confessed whole-heartedly, remembering how well she got along with all of her family and friends, back in the day. She was everyone's shoulder to cry on, everyone's favourite person when they needed help. The whole reason she wanted to be a lawyer was to aid others when they could not aid themselves; it was actually what made her initially wish to be an officer of the law,  especially since Nate was going to join the military, but it was categorically unheard of for a woman to be anything else but a secretary in the police station. To her, the fact that strictly men were supposed to risk their health and even their lives for the sake of the whole world without having a choice in the matter, was way more incredulous.

Clearly, things weren't the same anymore. That was one of the first things she started to notice about the Wasteland that seemed to be positive compared to old Boston, which made her gradually less reluctant and more accepting of her new environment.

Piper simply let out a conclusive ‘huh’, pleasantly surprised by the simplicity of her motives. Truthfully, she expected to hear an outrageous tale of her using her beauty and pleasant facade to be a master manipulator, a preferred tactic for women in the most recent years in order to survive in such a ruthless world. She reconciled with satisfaction, not regretting her own nosiness, leaning back into her chair with a shrug of feigned defeat and increased admiration for the one in front of her. 

“Not juicy enough for the paper, Miss Wright?” Lorraine teased, a playful look making its way across her facial features. There was a twinkle in the jade beads of her eyes, one that Piper had never seen before. So, little miss Trophy Wife did have a personality, after all.

“I'll get you to spill something scandalous when you least expect, uh…”

The reporter adjusted her newsboy cap, realizing she never caught Lorri's full name.

“Misses Howard.”

Piper saw the longing on her face as she spoke. 

Nathaniel's wife looked out the glassless window, her fingertips unconsciously brushing over the golden wedding band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of an intermittent chapter, but I like Piper being Lorraine's first close friend in the Commonwealth. And yes, Lorri wanted to initially be on the force. I have so many nice ideas with her and Nick based off this. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Thank you for reading and stay tuned!


	3. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorri starts working as Nick's partner, and the renewed image of her old self brings back a distinct memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited for y'all to read this one. It was an absolute blast to write. Enjoy!

For the first time since stepping foot in post-war Boston, Lorri had actually taken care of herself, like she used to before. It was, after all, her first day on her new job.

She was thankful that the Commonwealth had managed to still have make-up available, albeit being a little tricky to find products that didn't burn your face off from the heavy radiation or gave you lead poisoning. Or both.

When she looked in the mirror of the humble abode she had purchased in Diamond City, she finally saw Lorraine Howard staring back at her, instead of a ghost of what she used to be.

The classic shaped liner framed her piercing green eyes, almost giving them a mischievous feline look. The powdered rosy tint of blush blended nicely over the sprinkled freckles of her cheeks, finally bringing back colour to her face, and her cupid bow stood out, together with the rest of her small mouth, plump lips coated in a matte shade of royal ruby.

She had even found curlers, which had spent a hefty couple of hours in her wet mane after showering, and in their wake, her trademark wide blonde curls were born again.

With one last pat to tame a stray hair around her cheekbones, she locked the door reading “home plate” behind her.

The radio played faintly in the Valentine Detective Agency. A certain synth got distracted from organizing the folders in the old filing cabinet by the sound of a visitor.

“What can we do for you today?” He asked, his back still facing the entrance. Nick recognized the honeyed voice that responded.

“I was hoping I could find a dashing, strong cop to help me”, her eyelashes fluttered when their eyes met, yellow light staring into a forest glossed over by the morning dew.

He shook his head, a deep laugh echoing in his throat. She really liked his soothing voice. It was a nice change from the raiders yelling their lungs out with murderous intent.

“How could I refuse such a request? Take a seat, doll” he invited her, continuing with the tone of their banter. His use of the word made him ever-more charming, and Lorri could tell that he damn well knew it.

The mechanisms of his mind went from barely recognizing her, to a sudden overwhelming feeling that they had maybe met somewhere, in a time before all this.

Well, old Nick had.

The memory of the fashionable lawyer swaying her hips into the police station popped in his head, earning stares from women and men alike. One of the other cops wolf whistled, causing a few of this colleagues to snicker. She stopped dead in her tracks, turned to them, documents still held tightly against her chest, and instead of being outraged, simply smiled coyly. “I'll see your wife for dinner tonight, Harvey” she sweetly tilted her head, causing the culprit to swallow hard and clear his throat, pretending not to hear her. Should've known the one to cause all this commotion was Nathaniel's dame. His partner, Jim, stared at him condescendingly.

She waltzed into the main office like she owned the place, like it was her birth-given right. The pile of documents, tucked safely into flat binders and tied at the top with string, landed loudly on the chief's desk.

“You again? I told you, stop poking your nose in our business, or you'll regret it. Go back to your soldier, he's probably wondering where his lunch is.” The old man smirked at her, his bushy, greyed moustache raising in time with the corner of his mouth.

“I won't rest until Eddie Winter is locked up”, Lorraine spoke loudly, holding her ground, chest puffed and shoulders pulled back. Some of Nate's mannerisms had rubbed onto her. Suggestively, she glanced at the pile on his desk.

“I've compiled all the legal assets neatly. The witness statements are substantial. We must take action before it's too late!” Her passion flared, getting the best of her, and she reminded herself to remain civil and control herself. “Sir” she added with a more polite tone, her voice mellowing.

It wasn't hard to read the outrage in the chief's face. He stood up, swatted the stack of papers off his desk aggressively, and wanted to grab the woman by the collar of her blouse dress, but he thought twice, knowing who her father in law was. He opted for simply pointing a finger in her face.

“I don't need no damn woman telling me what to do! Get out!”

There was a clear accumulation of liquid in the corners of her emerald eyes. Deciding to retain her dignity, she quietly bent her knees underneath her flared baby blue dress, reaching down to take the bundle back into her arms. Lorri huffed in their direction, and stormed out, lemon heels clacking in a furious rhythm behind her.

The chief turned, cursing under his breath. He eyed Nick, who had remained silent during the whole ordeal. “What are you waiting for? Scram!” He snapped at the detective, but he didn't move.

“Valentine!”

He was frozen in place.

“Nick? Nick!”

There were two warm palms clasped onto his shoulders, the scent of someone's fresh minty breath splashing over his olfactory sensors.

His neon orbs came back into focus, and Lorraine's worried face crystallized in front of him. She looked older now, a couple of wrinkles starting to show on her forehead and along her smile lines; he even spotted a few white strands among the sea of gold in her curls.

She let out a sigh of relief, noticing him come back to.

“Are you alright?” she asked gingerly, taking a couple of steps back.

Ah, so it happened again. In the back of his mind, Nick knew he would never get used to the frustration and confusion. Flashbacks of a life that would never belong to him.

He masked it with a joke, as he did every other time. “Don't fret, this tin can's not out of warranty yet.”

The tightness of her expression lessened, and she rolled her eyes, swatting the side of his arm gently. “You're not a tin can” she scolded, and her hand stayed on the side of his worn-out limb. “You're the best detective alive.”

He was caught by surprise, and Lorraine could tell; despite being made of durable plated alloy, his face was still incredibly expressive. It was another detail about him that enthralled her.

Before he could look over to the hand making contact with his synthetic frame, she moved it and faced away, the denim fabric of her outfit swirling with her.

She was still just as bewitching, 200-something years later.

Nick moved towards his desk, placing down some folders he had taken out, containing information they needed for their current case.

He was nervously wondering if she was going to ask about what just happened. A lot of folk freaked out, accusing him of transmitting or receiving messages from the Institute whenever he spaced out. Ellie always just gave him an understanding peek, still laced with concern despite his reassurances. And Piper, was, well, Piper, always hoping to get the scoop on some pre-war shenanigans. He knew she didn't mean harm, but it seldomly ticked him off, especially when the memories coming back to him were the same ones that left the sensation of a bitter taste in his mouth on every occasion, without fail.

Lorraine was getting settled at her desk, which, she noted with appreciation in her heart, had been neatly organized for her to have plenty of space. From the elegant, navy purse she was holding, visibly old but having been expertly stitched up, she pulled out a pair of brown rimmed glasses. Nick recognized them. It became clear that she was also wearing them in the scene from old Nick's past.

“I hope you weren't hoping for an easy first job”, his characteristic voice rang out, spreading open one of the folders. “Because boy, have we got a big fish to catch.”

Lorraine's face brightened, like a child seeing snow for the first time. Nick only made that association thanks to his prewar memories. There was no snow in the Commonwealth. Not any real snow.

He could easily discern the excitement buzzing through her, in part due to the delight of her smile.

“I majored in criminal law. I wasn't looking for easy jobs” she flipped the coin back at him, and tucked a swirl of sunshine behind her ear. “But there's not a bastard I can't tail when I've got you beside me, partner.”

It had been so long since he heard that word. She made the corners of his lips curl again, a common theme over the past few weeks.

He nodded, tipping his hat respectfully.

“Right back at you, partner.”

 

Well, who would've known that her wish to become a police woman would actually happen, although not the way she ever imagined it. After the traumatic ordeal with Kellogg, where she had ended up displaying a show of brutality she never knew she was capable of, this was a much needed distraction, since the search for Shaun had momentarily hit a dead end, joining the battered flesh and bones of his kidnapper. Today, her thoughts never even approached the horrible feeling in her gut and the demons of her psyche repeatedly screaming that she was worse than any of the monsters she had ever put behind bars in the past, that she was a hypocrite, and, worst of all, an atrocious excuse for a mother.

 

It was the most relieved Nick had ever seen her. She was seated comfortably at Ellie's desk, since his (their?) secretary was out on personal business. Her eyes were glued on the papers between her slim fingers, a pleasant hum erupting from her pigmented lips, in tune with the song playing through the ragged radio.

It was something Nick couldn't begin to put into words. Having a partner again? Hopefully, it wouldn't end up like last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek! I have a huge crush on badass lawyer Lorri. The idea of them having met before came to me last night and I hope I pulled it off alright! Also, props to whoever caught a lil reference in there to another franchise very close to my heart! 
> 
> Prepare for some good old police work in the next chapter, where they chase down a vanishing murderer, inspired by the story of the Texarkana phantom killer.


	4. Leader Of The Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation into the ‘phantom killer’ takes the two detectives to Goodneighbor, and Hancock gets involved in helping them solve the mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to a new episode of CSI: Wasteland edition. 
> 
> I've created a Spotify playlist for this fic with all the songs used as titles, in order, and will add more with every chapter. Here it is:  
> https://tinyurl.com/y6gv6fbs
> 
> I've also made a pinterest board for inspiration centred around Lorri. Right here:  
> https://pin.it/ptd7nc3rwnnjzr
> 
> Enjoy!

Nick and Lorri exchanged a knowing glance of ‘is this guy for real', as he puffed out a cloud of smoke and tapped his cigarette to let the buildup of ash fall off.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, still wearing her iconic blue vault suit, pip boy securely strapped to her wrist, but this time she had paired it with a brown wool overcoat and matching thigh high boots to keep her warm. Underneath the exterior layer were new additions made of leather, serving as an extra measure of protection. It really made people underestimate her, but she learned to use that to her advantage long before the nukes.

Finn's empty threats weren't anything new; all the mobsters she'd exposed before had a lot more to say to her in court as they got dragged away.

“I'd walk away if I were you”, Nick warned, earning a look of disgust. “I wasn't talkin’ to you, Mr Handy.”

While the name-calling really didn't seem to bother the synth, a certain lawyer's blood was starting to boil in her veins. Picking on her was one thing, but picking on her partner?

“Talk to me instead, sugar” an unfamiliar voice reached the woman's ears.

“Thought I told you to cut this crap out”, the voice of the Mayor continued as he stepped in, his unusual choice of clothes catching Lorriaine's eye. That, and the fact that his face was pretty terrifying at first sight.

“You're getting soft, Hancock. She ain't one of us.”

Hancock didn't need someone to defy his authority twice before stabbing them cold heartedly in front of the whole town.

“... breakin’ my heart”, he muttered towards the lifeless thug, turning back towards his guests.

“Nick, brother! Been a while since you last dropped by.”

They shook hands, clearly acquainted. Her jade eyes were fixed on his pitch black ones. Surely there had to be an explanation as to why Nick was friends with a murderer.

_But aren't you one, too?_

She clenched her fists and pushed that thought back to where it came from.

“And now you've got this cute little vaultie on your arm”, she heard him remark, and her look hardened.

“I'm Nick's partner, Lorraine Howard”, she introduced herself gracefully, even if the new individual gave her an uneasy feeling.

“‘fraid this isn't a pleasure trip”, Nick changed the subject before Hancock could make her even more uncomfortable. “We're here on business.”

His hairless brows raised with curiosity. “New partner, huh? You got a good eye” he winked, not having processed the robotic voice, but the attorney's stern expression remained unchanged.

A frail, gorgeous vaultie with a thick stick up her ass walks into his town, accompanying Diamond City's detective of all people, and plays hard to get?

 _You're in luck, babe. I like a challenge_ , he thought, no clue as to why he was getting so worked up over that stranger in the first place.

He snapped back to reality. “So what's this business?” Hancock asked, walking them back to the State House. He had noticed how the woman stopped and stared around the building. She must've left the vault recently, huh? Poor thing. He was genuinely surprised she wasn't dead yet, but attributed that to having a synth cop to babysit her.

“Potential serial killer”, Nick said nonchalantly, his hands ducked into the pockets of his beige trench coat, tied in the middle. His cobalt tie stood out together with the bright glow of his eyes. “We've got an idea of his MO.”

“What the hell's an ehmo?” A raspy female voice interrupted, and the blonde saw a well-built figure approach them. She was like a rough diamond, her beauty still roaring out against the effects of the Wasteland. Her side-shaved hair resembled a live fire in the dim light of the lanterns. They had reached Hancock's office.

“Modus operandi”, Lorraine and Valentine answered simultaneously, exchanging a quick smile afterwards. He let her continue. “It's how the culprit conducts his crimes, all the patterns that tie them together.”

“Well, well, aren't you a smart bird” John teased, marching to his desk and throwing himself onto his throne, feet promptly slammed onto the rotting wooden surface.

She ignored him.

_Ouch._

“So what's this pawn doing here?” Fahrenheit spat out, not even bothering to thank for the explanation. She leaned against a wall, and Lorri's eyes trailed from her sturdy armour to the minigun lying beside her feet.

“Fahr, play nice”, Hancock nagged, making her grunt with exasperation. He addressed their newcomers. “What can I do for you, lovebugs?”

Lorri's chest tightened. Nick was looking at Hancock, but her eyes were glued to him. She felt her face starting to burn, and shook her head. Nate was still too fresh of a memory. He had been her one and only. He died fighting for them. She could never betray his trust.

“We got wind that our client’s son was last seen here, in Goodneighbor. He ran away with his girl to make a life for themselves. Haven't been heard from since.”

To her, it was a privilege listen to that smooth voice for hours.

“That was a week ago”, she added, and turned to face the ghoul, who was now holding a tin box in one hand, the other popping what looked like chewing gum in his mouth. It brought a scent of grapes to her nostrils.

“I know everything that happens in my town. I remember those kids, came here for refuge. Paul ‘n Betty. His dad was beatin’ the living shit out of him for wanting to marry her.”

He had put the tin back in a hidden pocket of his coat, his hands now playing with a sharp knife, examining it as he spoke.

“Why?” The voice erupting from the slim woman's throat cracked slightly. What a terrible story. Of course, they had only heard the dad's side when he came barging into their office in Diamond City, demanding for his son to be brought back. She knew there was more to it, there always was. That's what cross-examining witnesses was for.

“Hah, asshole didn't tell you? Of course. Why'd you think they came here? She's a sexy zombie, like yours truly.” John focused on her reaction, sniffing out a potential lie.

Lorraine's mouth was left agape. While the Commonwealth had socially evolved when it came to some aspects, others remained just the same. She bit her lip in anger.

“What does that matter? Love is unconditional. Why stand in the way of someone's happiness?”

The Mayor was impressed. It made more sense now, why she was travelling with a synth and didn't even flinch at the sight of her first sentient ghoul. Valentine placed a hand on her shoulder, and it calmed her down. “I know, doll. Let's get them back safe first, and then we'll figure out how to deal with the father.”

“You're right, Nick. We don't get to choose the clients, but we can choose to do the right thing.”

She nodded, and his plastic-covered hand slipped off her. It caused the slightest pull at her heartstrings.

“Wait, you said this ain't no missin’ persons case…” Hancock's mind seemed to have sharpened. “What about his MO?”, he turned the conversation back to the details the synth was about to unravel a minute ago.

Automatically, his old friend complied. “Two couples shot with a .32 in deserted areas just outside big towns. Strikes on weekends, late at night. Whoever's doing this sure got a flair for the dramatic." 

His partner continued. ”Always heterosexual couples. The men are usually killed first, then the women are sexually abused. Their bodies were found together.”

She couldn't help the shiver that went through her, dropping her workplace attitude. “They go out for a nice date and it ends in a nightmare… I can't help but think, back then, when Nate and I… All it took was the wrong place and time and we would've been like them…” She was mumbling under her breath. Sometimes, the past and the future tried to catch up with her at the same time.

Hancock had no clue who Nate was, but it seemed like Nick did.

“I'll gut any bastard stupid enough to try and kill the freaks and misfits of Goodneighbor on my watch” he stood up, eyeing Fahrenheit before looking back at the detectives. “Let's start from the top. They booked a room at hotel Rexford.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: while typing this, where it says "His cobalt tie" (Nick's), it auto corrected cobalt to coolant, and I had a good laugh. Still giggling. 
> 
> No, this won't be a true love triangle. I do believe Hancock gets a crush on SS, but they remain friends. She clearly doesn't like him at first but they'll bond later on. I've got a cute scene planned out. Thank you for reading!


	5. Return To Sender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three musketeers follow the trail of breadcrumbs left by Paul and Betty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've created two more Spotify playlists, one specifically for Lorraine  
> ( https://tinyurl.com/yxqakodk )  
> and another general one for the SS  
> ( https://tinyurl.com/y57vptyf ),  
> this time with contemporary music. Let me know if you give them a listen!

Hancock's influence was indisputable, especially on his own territory. Everyone had cooperated smoothly to aid their investigation, and it was thanks to him orchestrating everything. All the citizens of Goodneighbor helped however they could, gave him any information or access he requested. And now, they were standing in the room that Paul and Betty had rented seven days ago. It turned out that they never announced their departure, but they left the caps for their stay in the room and departed into the darkness after just two days. The only ones who had spotted them that evening were the members of the Neighbourhood Watch, but they had never bothered them, at the Mayor's request. They hadn't done anyone harm, so he let them be. Now, he wished he had asked a bit more about them. He couldn't have known, but he should've.

The trail of a trench laid spread across the floor behind his well-built shell as Valentine knelt down to inspect a few blood stains on the carpet. He seemed to tune out for a second, his eyes scanning the leftover substance. He stood up after getting the results back. “Nah, too old. It ain't theirs” he announced dismissively.

Hancock stood in the door, one of his arms holding onto the frame. “Could've told ya that much.”

Against her usual behaviour, the lawyer couldn't hold back the nasty sideways stab of a glance that she shot at the Mayor. He noticed and smirked instantly. It was fun to watch her react so easily any time he poked fun at Nick. All in good spirits, of course.

The detective caught her glare as well, but kept it to himself. It was touching to see how protective the woman was of him. He didn't quite understand why, but he wasn't complaining. It was endearing to him, and it brought back distant memories of Jennifer.

As warm as the wool coat kept her, Lorraine slipped it off with ease and neatly folded it, leaving it on top of the bed. She needed to be able to move in order to search the premises. After all, this was the field work that she had always been dying to do, ever since she was a little girl.

Perhaps taking it a bit too seriously, she started examining every single nook and cranny, checking behind every painting on the wall, under every object. Not having found anything, she decided to change the level of view. While the two men were engaged in idle chatter about Piper and her intention to publish an article on the subject of the killings (titled 'The Moonlight Murders’), she sprawled down on the floor and inspected beneath the bed. Nothing. She turned to an angle, checking under the nightstand. Jack squat. Finally, she peeked under the large dresser, and spotted something. A small, strained sound went past her crimson lips.

The ghoul's attention was promptly redirected to Lorri, and more specifically, her ass. He let out a whistle under his breath, earning a look of disapproval from his friend. So, they were protective of each-other. Just what was she to that old pile of bolts? _The plot thickens. I'll figure out what you're playing at, Nicky._

With a few blonde strands disheveled, she regained her footing, proudly holding up what looked like a holotape. “Aha! Got the little bugger.”

John and Nick exchanged glances as Lorraine slipped the tape into the built-in player on her wrist, waiting for the pip boy to play it back for them. It clicked and whirled, before the static background noise came on, covered up by the tone of a young human.

“Dad, if this is you listening, go fuck yourself. I'm never coming back, not after what you did. Stop chasing us and leave us the hell alone! Let me live my fucking life the way I want to! Yeah, you're a racist piece of shit, I get it, but I'm not gonna let you stand between me and the woman I love! I don't give a damn how many wrinkles she's got or how long she's gonna live after I die. She loves me, and we'll make the best of our days together. Matter of fact, we’re heading out to where we had our first date tomorrow. I'm gonna surprise her, ask her to be my wife. If you weren't such a dickhead, you'd know where that is, but you don't, do you? I swear, if I see you again, I'll put a bullet through your goddamn brain.”

There was a brief pause, but the static kept going. None of them spoke.

“And… mom? If you're hearing this, I'm sorry. It wish it could've been different. I love you, and so does Betty. We hope you'll be alright… maybe we'll meet again. Be safe, ma. You're always in our thoughts, and we're so thankful for all your help. You don't know how much it's meant to us.”

There was another click and the tape made a scratching sound as it came to a stop.

John's expression was softer than usual, and anyone could tell he felt bad for the couple. Everyone in the room did. A long sigh gave out from the detective's chest, reaching the skeletal hand up to his hat to hold it into place, as if the heaviness of what they just heard almost blew it off.

Wiping away the tears that welled up, clouding her sight, Lorraine took the holotape out and tenderly brushed a finger over it. Her motherly instincts came out, Paul's powerful words tugging at her heart. She wondered if her Shaun would grow up to be such a brave man, like his father had been.

“God, I hope they're safe. They're still so young. To think the whole world is against them… they must be terrified… and their mom, worried sick…”

Acute robotic hearing really came in handy to Nick, more often than not. While his companions were distraught by the emotion, he had discovered a clue, and a perfect occasion to land a well-placed quote in reply to Lorraine's worries.

"Just wait, Gretel, until the moon rises, and then we'll see the crumbs of bread I scattered. We'll surely find our way."

Her eyes widened considerably, and, for a moment, she was back in the law school library, exchanging her mountain of judicial books for a pleasant moment of relaxation. One of the many journeys she had gone on through the pages was that of Hansel and Gretel. She was absolutely fascinated by the Brothers Grimm's collection of folk tales, ravelling in the symbolism and moral thematics of each work. They had gained popularity in the States due to Walt Disney altering them into friendly motion pictures, but the German legends had greatly inspired her in her career. Sometimes, she recited out to Nathaniel on their few lazy nights together, but he was never as into it as her. He would fall asleep within half an hour as she lovingly stroked his dark locks of hair. She didn't mind watching him nod off peacefully. It filled her heart with nothing but joy, and she remained alone in her realm of reading. Out of all, her favourite would always be Cinderella, painfully identifying with the protagonist.

Never, in a million years, did she think that an artificial noir detective from the future would share this particular interest with her. Then again, it hadn't been a million years, just a bit over two hundred.

The woman's frown of concern broke into a bright smile. Hancock didn't get it. He had heard of the story, but didn't remember much. His knowledge laid in history and politics, not children's fables. Daisy always helped him find new books, but he felt like the pair of pre-war geeks had an unfair advantage.

“Didn't the birds eat the crumbs or somethin’? I thought that old hag cooked ‘em up.” He made a face, cursing his competition. It was new to Hancock to be upstaged by someone else. If anything, too many solicitors wanted to get in his bed.

_That's a lie, and you know it. No such thing as too many._

Valentine shook his head. He remembered the tale down to the last word. In a previous life, it had been his fiancée's favourite. “The kid went back and scattered stones instead. Clever little fella.”

Brown boots moved towards the window, the burning afternoon sun dropping its rays of light over a breathtaking shade of green in Lorraine's irises. The sunset's blanket of apricot hues that laid over the Wasteland were slowly descending into an evening mauve. Peering at the gorgeous view, her words treaded after her partner's.

“And when the full moon had risen, Hansel took his little sister by the hand and followed the pebbles, which were shining like new-minted pennies and showed them the way.”

The breath pumped out of Nick's steel lungs seemed to get lost in the back of his throat. He never needed respiration, but his body simulated it to appear more humanoid.

She knew?

Of course. Of course she did. How did he ever expect any less from a woman like Lorraine Howard?

All he did was nod his head, wires visible through the gaping holes at each side. He felt the wave of coolant boosting through him at a faster pace, and proceeded to pretend as if he hadn't. Thankfully, the others were oblivious to it.

“So they did. Just like our friend here”, Valentine pointed at the newly-found holotape.

Of course, the witty PI would figure it out in a matter of seconds. She had been too distracted by her feelings. _The place where they had their first date._ Now they needed to figure out where that was.

Hancock tapped the door with his knuckles, letting out a chuckle, getting up to speed. “Nicky, brother, I could kiss you right now.” The robot amusedly played along. Part of his identity was being a self-deprecating flirt, after all. “Smooching with the Mayor? I'd need a few loose screws to turn ya down.”

Despite being aware of them joking, the pre-war attorney's face flared up like fireworks on the fourth of July, and she hastily grabbed her coat and dashed past them. “Boys, get a room, would you!” They both felt a little inadequate, as if they were being disciplined by their mother.

A hearty laugh escaped Hancock. God, she was adorable. Stepping out into the hallway, he called out after her, hands cupping around his creased lips for increased volume. “Don't run, Sunshine! There's enough to go around.”

The nickname broke out without him realizing, but it was fitting, inspired by her brilliant locks of hair and her refreshing personality. He heard her gasp, and drank in her angry voice as she yelled back at him from the bottom of the stairs, right before leaving the hotel.

“You're a pervert, Mayor Hancock!”

Nick joined him in the hallway with a snort. “She's not wrong, you know.” John gave him a mischievous wink. “Oh, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Nick quotes Poe and such, but I'm sure he would know stuff like this as well, especially with Disney making the iconic movies right around that time period.
> 
> Also, the first couple of chapters skip a few weeks in between them, but the story is linear for the moment. 
> 
> Please leave some feedback and share your thoughts! I hope you're enjoying the original content as opposed to retelling in-game scenes.


	6. Happy Days and Lonely Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much has happened in the Sole Survivor's life, even before the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of plot progressing in this one, but it gave me the opportunity to go into Lorraine's background.

“Go ahead, tell me. What was life like before the war, if you're so ancient?”

Hancock and Nick came into view just in time to hear Daisy's testing query. Lorraine's voice was tranquil when she replied, as if in a dream.

“I had a beautiful house, white picket fence, and the greenest grass you'd ever seen. I was an attorney at the Public Defender's Office. My husband, Nathaniel, he's a - ”, she cut herself off, and her nails dug into her palm. “ - was a veteran. Served in the Sino-American War. ” Her voice died in her throat.

There was a sniffle from Daisy, and she took a second to regain her composure. “You know, my husband was killed in the war with the Reds, too. They didn't even tell me where he died… classified information and all that.”

_My Nate was shot in the head right in front of me by the bastard who stole our son._

Lorri's thoughts were screaming inside the confines of her skull. She placed her hand over the ghoulish one on top of the counter, squeezing gently, a look of understanding on her face. Instead, Daisy walked around the structure and wrapped her arms around the lawyer's frail body. It was impossible to fight back the tears anymore. They both remained in the embrace, and the vault-dweller shyly placed her hands on the back of the clerk's maroon blazer.

 

“So she's pre-war?” John could barely wrap his head around it. That's why she looked so out of place, why she was so clueless about the Wasteland. It wasn't because she spent her life in the vault. It was because she lived before the bombs.

Nick placed his hat down next to him, on the couch in Hancock's office. “She sure is. You'll have to ask her yourself if you want the details. It's not my story to tell.” He waved his hand in rejection when the other held out a tin of Mentats.

The puffed shoulders of John's frock coat raised to gesture a shrug. “Suit yourself.”

 

Lorraine's chest descended with relief as she let out a prolonged sigh. It wasn't the same as her bathtub from Diamond City, but at least they had running water at the hotel that allowed her to take a quick shower.

Ever since stepping out of that cursed vault, she never felt clean. It seemed that a layer of grit and dust had ingrained itself into her cells and wouldn't come off, no matter how harshly she scrubbed at her skin. Was it the result of being frozen in an airtight container for two centuries, or coming out of it into the nuclear aftermath of the apocalypse, forced to wander through a forsaken cemetery abandoned by time?

She spotted her own naked reflection in the broken mirror, barely hanging onto the square tiles of the bathroom.

How her body had changed throughout the years.

Lorri used to have an alluring hourglass figure before her and Nate got married, just as she'd turned twenty. After that, the stress of caring for their new home and being a law school student had worn her down to a pile of skin and bones that weighed an insignificant amount. Things were difficult for a while, and she was left alone when her husband went off to war.

Despite expectations, Nate's military career wasn't as horrible as she expected. He was stationed in peaceful areas, thanks to the fact that his father, a most respected high-ranking officer, was pulling the strings. Her curved hips and plump breasts returned as she got her degree, graduating summa cum laude, and became a lawyer. She was slicing through cases left and right, earning the respect of colleagues and family alike. Despite not being paid the same bucks as a man within her profession, she still made a name for herself, and earnings to boot. Things were quieting down, and Lorraine hoped in earnest that her husband would come home soon.

Come home he did, impaired by brain damage due to an unsecured landmine. The consequences weren't dire, compared to the of disfigurement that other soldiers suffered, but it was enough to deem him unfit for duty. However, he returned a war hero. His sacrifice had spared the rest of his squad, by virtue of selflessly throwing his body in front of his boys to shove them out of harm's way. Direct forceful trauma impacted his head, ultimately leading to a mild disability. He had trouble finding his words most of the time, in addition to a stutter, and the tremor in his hands made them difficult to use. Nathaniel needed constant care and supervision, so Lorraine did what any loving wife would do; she dropped everything and put her career on hold in order to look after her husband. Ironically, those were probably their happiest years.

The incident had brought them so much closer, and she felt like she finally understood the darkest corners of his mind. Lorri loved Nate wholly, for everything that he stood for, and never stopped admiring his courage. With treatment, his condition improved greatly. They had time to go on dates again, fooling around like they did back in highschool. It was on his twenty-ninth birthday, after a lovely evening out to the movies, in the summer breeze of early August, that they conceived Shaun.

 

Her fingers trembled when they traced down the shadows that the stretchmarks of her difficult pregnancy had left on her abdomen. There wasn't a single regret in her heart for having Shaun, despite the struggles she endured for nine months. After his birth, the extra weight that had settled snugly on her body destroyed her self-image. Post-maternal depression crept in, and she rapidly, and unhealthily, went down in stones. Her shape wasn't as severe as six years ago, but still far from the figure of a pin-up girl.  
Shaun was already five months old by the time she started recovering, and seven months old when the nukes dropped.

Now, Lorraine Howard was the Sole Survivor. The name never appealed to her, because it made it sound like her baby boy was gone. He was still out there, and even the peculiar old woman in Sanctuary said she had felt his presence. Lorri knew it was most likely her drug addiction talking, but she chose to believe it all the same. The sheer hint that she wouldn't make it in time, that something could happen to her child… she couldn't bear it for a second.

There was another sudden dip in health after she awoke in Vault 111, her body struggling to adapt to the dominance of radiation. The pain was excruciating at first. It felt like every fiber of her being was trying to kill her on the spot whenever she tried to put any sort of nourishment in her system. The first time she tried to drink water, her stomach fought and revulsed so badly that she passed out by the river after an ugly fit of wheezing and puking pure gastrointestinal acid. She didn't know how much time passed when she was brought back by the licks of a whimpering dog.

 

Any food she tried to digest came right back out, in addition to giving her high fever and causing terrible aches in her guts. The people she met in Concord, that afterwards settled back in Sanctuary, had taught her to skin animals and cook their mutated flesh well enough to stay in her body, and offered her a few cans of purified water. It was an improvement, but she soon had to head out to the Great Green Jewel in search of the one who found all missing souls. On the way there, she couldn't count on one hand the times she managed to sleep more than half an hour or eat without instantly regretting it.

 

Piper could be quite intrepid at times, but she had been the one to help Lorraine get back on her feet, together with her little sister Natalie, and Ellie, the sweet secretary. After getting her in working condition, the reporter took her out to explore and familiarize herself with the new world, as well as gather supplies and get a taste of her surroundings. During this time, Nick and Ellie pinpointed the man with the scar. He accompanied her when she went to confront him at Fort Hagen, and the rest was virulent history.

 

It had been a couple of months since then, and now, her and Nick were working cases together, trying to put behind them the trauma of Hagen, and hoping to find something, anything, that would lead them to Shaun.

Speaking of the devil, she caught Valentine's voice right outside the room. He knocked on the door first, out of chivalry. “Doll, you awake? Mayor's here with me and we've got something you might want to hear.”

They heard her moving around on the other side of the wall, but no words came through. Hancock tapped his foot against the floor as they waited for a few moments, before the door opened with a creak.

“Come in.”

She invited them in meekly, and with a flash of neon darting towards her, Nick understood why. Unlike before, her hair was up, swirled into a neat bun at the top of her head. Her shape was clad in a thin robe which didn't exactly help in concealing the private details of her appearance. His conscience damned the faded coral shade of satin, and how it matched her pale skin so pleasantly.

Hancock watched the two idiots throwing each other timid glances. He had never seen the synth act like that. Nick was courteous, not shy. As the ghoul walked past him and tapped his plated torso, he could feel the mechanisms buzzing inside him, not to mention the warmth seeping through his shirt. For some reason, an unwarranted pang of jealousy bubbled in the Mayor's chest.

“Don't forget to breathe” he teased in a low register, a most secretive hint of disdain in his voice.

Valentine's plastic-covered fingers curled into a clenching fist, a monologue of guilt breaking out in the electrical systems of his brain. 

_Get a grip, you old dog. She's still your client and your partner, your friend. Her husband just bit the dust, and you're being a despicable leech. Why would she ever look at a ran-down pile of copper like you? You've got no right. Not after you let Jenny die._

“Hey”, a woman whispered softly, interrupting his internal conflict.

_Jenny?_

“What did you find?” The same dulcet voice spoke again, and a raspy one answered while the detective remained mute.

“Sister, it ain't gonna be pretty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are ready for some Nick feels! Buckle up, kids, we're going on an adventure.
> 
> Thank you for reading so far!


	7. The Boy I'm Gonna Marry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Nick gets a little hiccup in his system, they head over to the Swan Pond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm doing alright with the original 'side quest', hope you guys are excited to read more!

Chicago was bustling with the south of chatter and revving car engines. A crowd was pooling out through the door of the movie theatre, faces upon faces blending together in anonymity then going their separate ways.

A woman ran in front of her partner, short of stature, fair as snow, long hair the colour of ebony. She had a wide smile on her round and youthful features.

Her eyelids slid closed for a moment; she crossed her arms over her chest, then suddenly stepped forward to intentionally bump into the cop.

Thick lashes fluttered, her doe-like chocolate eyes staring up at him, hands slithering around his neck with a glint of playfulness.

“Good heavens, where am I?” Jennifer acted, and Nick replied in suit.

“You are with me.” His hand reached to cup her cheek, skin surprisingly soft in spite of handling guns on a regular basis. His other arm found its way behind her waist as he leaned her backwards. “I love you more than anything else in the world. Come with me to my father's castle, and you shall become my wife.”

His voice was low, suave, and it made Jenny's heart almost explode with excitement. Mrs. Valentine, huh? It wasn't long now. As soon as he returned from his coming work trip to Boston, they could officially get married.

Unexpectedly, she let out a gasp, as her betrothed lifted her off her feet, not just metaphorically. In his embrace, she could feel the toned muscles of his chest and arms as he held her. Her cheeks burned, and he took note. “What is it, Princess?”

He never called her doll. To him, she was much more than that. She was his Snow-White, the most beautiful of all.

“Oh, you'll see as soon as we get back.” She leaned in closer, and her warm breath tickled the nape of his neck, causing his ears to turn crimson at the sound of her sultry voice. “Mister Valentine.”

 

The tingles down his spine followed him through time, and he opened his eyes, 200-something years later. He was laying down across a table in a dimly lit room. There was a repeating sound echoing within the walls, and it took him a couple of seconds to figure out what it was.

Quiet, rhythmic sobs. Lorraine's back rose and fell with each one, like clockwork. Her hands held the miniature pewter pikes of his exposed exoskeleton, thumbs brushing over the stainless steel. He was missing the layer of silicone and plastic that mimicked skin, altogether with the artificial nerve endings. The touch stimulated nothing, and in turn, he didn't feel her comforting gesture.

He sat still, unsure of what to do. Should he say something? Play it off with a snarky comment about his programming? Before he could calculate an adequate reaction, she spoke for him.

“Please, please, Nick. I can't lose you too. Only God knows how hard I'm struggling to keep it together.”

His glowing pupils moved to get a glimpse of her, and he now noticed her tremulous fingers. She was slouched over, face hidden in a sea of gold.

“Your jokes make me laugh. Can you believe that? Everyone I've ever known is gone, I watched my husband get murdered, and my little boy…”

Her voice cracked and she fell quiet. A shaky breath left her before continuing.

“I wake up in a completely different and horrible world, riddled with nightmares, and you manage to make me laugh.”

Valentine was just now starting to get a feeling of her teardrops hitting the fabric of his shirt sleeve. That was a lot of tears. How long had she been sitting there?

“I know how everyone thinks I'm pathetic, a pre-war housewife who's never fought before. I see the looks they give me, like they're wondering how soon I'm going to die out there.”

At this point, the synth decided to simply let her ramble, get it off her chest. He understood her shock and distress, probably better than any other soul in the ‘wealth.

“But you, you don't look at me like that. I don't care what they call you, synthetic or whatever else. You're a great man. I couldn't have avenged my Nate without you.”

Nick thought that if he had been built with a mechanism that allowed him to cry, he would've started to.

“You said that you're just a shell with someone else's memories. I don't think so. Maybe you sound like Nick Valentine, walk like him. But your thoughts, your actions, those are yours, not his. You chose to help people, chose to risk your life for them.”

She heard a distinct whooshing noise, as if a machine had just come to life. The source was the main operating chamber inside Nick's chest.

The overwhelming emotions had made him almost overheat. He silently ran a diagnostic and rebooted his systems to keep him from short-circuiting. Is that what humans felt when their heartbeat strengthened and their stomach turned ‘upside down'?

Lorraine almost squealed when he finally stood up, bracing himself on the table with his palms. She plopped down next to him, throwing her arms around him tightly. “Oh, Nick, thank Heavens you're alright!” Never did it occur to her that he was aware of her touching speech.

Awkwardly, one of his arms reached to pat the back of her shoulder. “There, there, doll. I'm alright. Can't get rid of me that easily.”

The lawyer moved away as if just now registering the bounds she crossed. As she gently wiped her face with the corners of her sleeves, Nick noticed she was still wearing her nightgown underneath her chestnut wool coat. He assumed that the replay of his memory with Jennifer Lands was so taxing on his software that it temporarily set him into standby.

What was that sensation that had him freeze in place and stop inhaling for a moment? Fear? That had never happened before, not to the point where it knocked him out completely.

“You gave us a fright, that's for sure. Doctor Amari was at a loss when we brought you in.”

That's what the familiar lingering scent was. The melting wax of candles and a very distinct Caron fragrance that he only recalled one woman ever wore. He was at the Memory Den.

Regardless of nothing being there to obstruct it, the detective cleared his throat. “We?”

Lorri have a small nod. “Mayor Hancock carried you here. Said you could use a diet”, she added with a hint of amusement.

“I leave you two alone for a second and you go breakin’ my heart." Valentine mentally smacked himself. _Why do I even open my mouth_ , he mused to himself.

This time, she laughed openly. So, it was true.

 _I guess I never noticed how easily she giggles at my one-liners._ There was a sliver of optimism in his electronic heart. Of course, the self-deprecating echo of his conscience didn't wait long to rain on his parade. _She's just trying not to make me feel bad._

“You know I wouldn't even think of such a thing.”

She couldn't fathom the reason for playing into his empty flirtations. The only one who ever pushed her buttons like that was Nathaniel. He uses to hit on her harder than a baseball rookie trying to score a home run. Lorri couldn't stand him back in secondary school up to their freshman years. He was such a prick, always acting like he could get any girl he wanted. That's the whole reason they played cat and mouse until she gave in and accepted to go out with him just to prove he couldn't sway her. Oh, how wrong she had been.

 

“Hope I'm not interrupting”, Hancock joined them sarcastically. “Heard some commotion down here and thought I'd come and check. If you're all done, we should get back on track.”

He turned away just as quickly as he'd arrived. “Good to see you're alright, brother. Try to stay on your feet.” It was a coy remark, but he was honestly relieved nothing was wrong with the synth.

 

They thanked Irma and the doctor for their hospitality before leaving. Lorraine shivered against the cool evening air. Her legs were completely exposed, feet fitted into a pair of glossy red heels.

“Mister Mayor, could you mind my partner while I get changed?” She pleaded urgently, holding the hem of her robe down so the blowing wind wouldn't further reveal her skin.

“Count on me, Sunshine”, he winked, and she rolled her eyes before running back to the hotel.

 

John wasn't too worried about leaving his mayoral duties in Fahr's capable hands for a few days. Those kids had come to him for help, and he was going to see it through.

It turned out that they really didn't have to look far. After questioning most of the citizens of Goodneighbor, Nick managed to pinpoint where the two young lovebirds had run off to. There was a reason they stopped in Goodneighbor for such a short time.

Lorraine let out a breathless whisper. “The Common.”

Her eyes scanned their environment, turning full circle to take in the view. In her time, it used to be a very popular place for families and couples alike to enjoy their days off at the park. Picnics, boat rides, there was no end to the fun that could be had there. Now, it was completely deserted. There weren’t any children laughing, no grandpas playing chess, no school girls giggling to themselves about their crushes. All those people, annihilated in an instant.

The gazebo stood tall just like it used to, on the opposite side of the mossy fountain. Vines curled up its columns, shining marble now gone, replaced with dullness. Her heart ached. She had many pleasant memories there, not just going on walks with Nate as they pushed Shaun’s stroller underneath the dancing petals, but with her parents, her sister and her little niece and nephew.

Puzzle pieces fell so well together in his mind, now that Hancock knew what caused that yearning stare. He felt bad for her. It must be a crazy experience to see the world again in such a state.

Nick was more than used to her nostalgic reactions by now. He learned that it was best to give her space as she pulled herself back from her reminiscing. His sensors picked up motion behind their backs, but he never got a chance to act on it. Could it be the killer, finally showing himself? Would he dare pull such a bold move, in the middle of the city?

“H-hands in the air! No funny business!”

They turned slowly. A young human male was pointing his worn out pipe gun at them, shattered glasses sliding off his nose. Even though his legs were shaking viciously, he held his ground, desperate to protect his soulmate from any trouble. The ghoul girl peeked out timidly from behind him. “Sweetie, isn’t that the Mayor?”

Paul’s eyes were about to pop out of his head. “Shit, you’re right!” He immediately holstered his weapon, bowing down in front of Hancock. “Sorry, sir, I mean Mayor, Mister - Mister Sir Mayor.” He slurred the distinct titles together, and hung his head low in embarrassment. Hancock chuckled and placed a reassuring hand on the guy’s shoulder. “Easy, cupcake. I ain’t the President.”

So that was the missing boy? Lorri brought a hand to her chest, lightening her posture. It was hard to believe that the determined man cursing his tongue off on the holotape was the same as the frightened cub before them. However, his strong will and love for Betty was blindingly obvious. It was a delight to know they were safe.

“First things first, I believe congratulations are in order?” Valentine grinned sheepishly, asking the question on everyone’s mind. “For what?” the girl peered. Paul was nervously shaking his head. “Nothing, nothing! Anyway, yeah, uh, no. We were going to… take a break by the pond”, he pointed towards the murky water, “but something was moving in there, so we’ve been hiding here for a couple of days, hoping someone would come along and, well... get rid of it.”

_Real classy, kiddo._

“I told him it’s better to keep moving, but... He wanted to wait just a bit longer.” Betty glanced at her boyfriend. Even if they disagreed, she knew he had his reasons. He wouldn’t purposely put them in danger. Paul looked at the new arrivals, a ray of hope dangling over his face, and the two grown men weren’t sure he was fully aware of the scale of his request.

A surge of adrenaline flowed through Lorraine. Was there any doubt? She knew exactly what had to be done. The older woman held a hand out to the teenage ghoul, who accepted it reticently. “Um, lady?” “Come with me, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe.”

She led Betty towards the beginning of a neighbouring ally, and then kneeled in front of her. “Hop on, sweet pea.” The girl complied, and Lorri steadily rose with the ghoul seated on her shoulders, approaching an old school bus. “Up you go, now.” Nick and John never had the chance to offer help, not like the two dames ever asked for it.

Nate’s wife moved agilely, like a cat, as she boosted herself up the yellow sides of the vehicle after Betty, balancing the ball of her foot on the bottom of the missing window. Her arms reached to the roof of the bus, and pushed against it to raise herself on top. It was easy to guess what the lawyer planned next. Rinse and repeat. She knelt, Betty got on, she stood up, Betty got off. From there, she nimbly kicked her feet into the metal and jumped high enough to grab onto the balcony hovering above her. Again, she strained her biceps to climb up onto the thick stone railing. That whole fitness exercise left her out of breath, but she did her best not to show it. The soon-to-be engaged young lady stared at Lorri in awe, admiration clear in her obsidian sclerae.

“What are we waiting for, boys?” The sniper rifle hanging off the Survivor’s back was now propped in her hands, and she lowered her gaze overhead towards her companions and the previously missing fellow. “I do hope you're not frightened by the Loch Ness monster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jenny is a precious cinnamon bun, and so are Paul and Betty!


	8. It's Been A Long, Long Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing new occurs in the 'Phantom killer' case, so Lorri takes the opportunity to check back with the people in Sanctuary, and Nick is almost too happy to see her when she returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a nod to Avengers: End Game, which you will get if you've seen it. Absolutely incredible cinematic work and I got a few ideas for the plot later on! Anyway, enjoy some intimate NickxSS bonding.

“Betty Jo Booker, will you marry me?”  
“Yes! Yes I will, Paul Martin! With all my heart!”

It wasn't just Lorraine that felt so familiar with the words, but Nick as well. Even if some memories were slipping further away from his previous life, he still recalled the day he asked Jenny to be his wife like it had happened yesterday.

“Alright, sister?” Hancock checked in, his observation skills sharp enough to notice her twisting the old wedding band around her finger.

“I'm… grateful for your care” she replied, for the first time smiling genuinely at the Mayor instead of acting like she was sick of his attitude. He was taken aback, and moved his attention to a very fascinating street lamp that had been out of juice for at least a century. He scratched the back of his neck, refusing to return his gaze on her. “Don't mention it.”

 

“Will you be our godparents?” Paul asked with determination.

Lorri's face went very clearly the colour of beetroot and she froze, quiet as a mouse, which allowed Nick to diffuse the situation. “There's been a misunderstanding, kiddo. We're not… Lorraine and I aren’t married.” Her name rolling off his silicone tongue quickened her pulse.

Betty's innocent eyes bounced between the two. “But, you act like it! And she's got a ring, too!” Paul insisted. She could see the way that woman looked at the synth, and she knew it was the same way she looked at Paul, but, like all boys, she thought, the stout detective must be totally oblivious.

“Honey, let's not pester them”, she suggested gently, and her fiance stood down. “Sure… sorry, we're just excited is all. We want to have the wedding as soon as we settle down.”

Lorraine regained herself. “Well, you know where to find the Mayor, and Nick and I will be at the agency in Diamond City. Just look for the neon heart.”

They were just about to leave, when Betty rushed towards the lawyer and gave her a life-squeezing hug. “Thanks for the help, lady. I hope you can doll me up one day to be as pretty as you.” The other's eyes narrowed, and she moved a hand to pat the girl's head with a sense of pride, like she was holding her own daughter. “You're already the prettiest, sweet pea.”

 

“So, is that case closed?” Ellie fumbled with the notes, putting them in order within the file. There hadn't been so much as a whisper about the Phantom Killer in a month. No more victims, no more clues. Betty and Paul had sent them a message after having found an old abandoned ranch where they decided to start their own farm. They hadn't set a date for their wedding yet, but promised they would be the first to be invited.

“Not closed” Nick corrected, taking a long drag out of his cigarette, letting the smoke envelop him as it escaped his mouth. “Slip it next to the unsolved ones.”

She did as instructed. “If that will be all, I'd like to turn in early” Ellie yawned, bringing the back of her hand above her chin. The clock on the wall ticked just a couple minutes past six.

“Sure thing, doll. Enjoy your evening” her boss dismissed the secretary, generous as always with the short shifts. If they were out of work for the day, there was no point in hogging her time. She was a young woman and had a life to live outside of their investigations.

“Thanks, Nick. You too.” Her gaze lingered on him with appreciation, before the door clicked shut behind her.

 

A couple of hours had gone by when Valentine heard the determined droplets of rain gunning down the pavement, and a strong breeze of winter whisked past him.

He practically shot up from his desk when he saw who it was.

“Welcome back” he greeted, unable to contain his contentment at the sight of the golden curls and scarlet lips. He offered to pluck her soaking umbrella into the cylinder by the stairs.

“It's so good to see you again, Nick.” Lorraine's jade eyes sparkled with joy, and he caught the strange sensation in his chest at the way she said his name. The former cop found himself unable to focus on his work for the past week after she took a trip back to Sanctuary. Everything seemed to remind him of her when she was gone, and there was a clear hole in his daily routine without their banter, her small gestures of kindness, sharing nostalgic anecdotes from before the war.

Lorraine pushed something towards him. He grabbed the gift, glancing down to identify a paper cup. The strong scent of fresh coffee filled the agency, warmth seeping through his metallic body. It was very comforting, just like his partner's presence.

She removed her coat and stored it on the hanger. They both sat down on the aged loveseat, a tight fit for the two of them, but Lorraine didn't mind the closeness. It was a long way to travel herself to Sanctuary and back, not to mention the freezing temperatures. She welcomed the heat of the office with an exhilarated whine. Her body sunk into the couch, hands clasped around her own serving of coffee, and her head tilted to the side to rest on the synth’s shoulder. He didn't move away, so she assumed it wasn't rude of her.

“Peachy trip, doll?” Nick chuckled at her exhaustion. “Oh, where do I start?”

Lorraine told him about the journey, about Preston the cowboy and his ambitions for the Minutemen, and of the settlers she had helped on her way back. She mostly stayed hidden, just like her first trip to the stadium, and made good use of distractions and battle tactics. For a lawyer, she could really handle herself in dangerous situations.

Their conversation winded over many different subjects as they caught up. They chatted for hours, and now she laid peacefully across the couch, Nick having returned to his desk, listening to her faint breaths. 

Lorri never really got rid of her incessant shivering. It was easier to deal with when adventuring, wearing her wool coat, but she still trembled in her sleep, no matter how thick a blanket she wrapped up with. Valentine struggled with the feeling of helplessness tearing him apart. His partner tossed and turned, even cried, and would not stop shuddering throughout the night. He attributed the side effect punishing her body to being the victim of cryogenics.

 

The woman woke up feeling pleasantly cozy for the first time since the war, not haunted by nightmares for once, at least none that she could remember. Waking from her dazed state, Lorri had a vision of Nate holding her. As her eyes slowly peeled open, she realized that it wasn't her late husband, but Nick's torn coat, keeping her company. She spotted him in his usual space, forearm resting on the desk while his good hand was rubbing the faded cracks across his forehead. _He always does that when he's trying to crack a case_ , she smiled to herself.

Nick's trademark gray fedora was still on, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing the firm shape of his crafted arms. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip, silently watching him. Emanating luminosity, the rings of his eyes cut through the darkness, resembling a couple of guiding sprites out of a forgotten fairytale. The detective looked even more handsome than when he donned the trench coat she was currently entangled with.

The rest of the room was dim, save for the lamp on his desk. He glossed over the papers with acute concentration. Mesmerized, Lorraine brought the coat closer, a familiar feeling of butterflies in her stomach washing over her. She noted the distinct smell of metal and tobacco lingering on the fabric, paired with an alluring whiff of cologne. Her eyelids were still heavy with exhaustion, and she cuddled into Nick's coat, shifting one leg on top of it, drifting back to slumber.

He caught the movement by the blacks of his eyes, and his intact hand moved from the brim of his hat down to his mouth, hanging agape. It hadn't been his intention to have his clothes trapped between her thighs, standing out through the stretched navy fabric of her vault suit. The savory image seared itself into his photographic memory, and any attempt at concentration completely abandoned him until sunrise was being announced by the chirping of swallows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh I am such a sucker for these two. The side quest may seem completed for now, but don't let your guard down!


End file.
